


No more Shows

by Emptynarration



Series: Radio Host [2]
Category: Youtube RPF, Youtube egos
Genre: ( if you have any to be tagged tell me pls ), Brain Damage, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Injury Recovery, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paralysis, Partial paralysis, Recovery, edward has a crush on host shhh dont tell no body, temporary paralysis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 09:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emptynarration/pseuds/Emptynarration
Summary: After Edward and the Googles, together with Bim and Edgar and Wilford, had rescued Dark, the Jims, and Host, Edward had his hands full.Terrified his friends were comatose.TerrifiedHostwas comatose, because he didn't wake up even after weeks.After the Jims woke up.After Dark joined them again.With no signs of ever getting back to himself.





	No more Shows

Host had been Edward's first priority.

Wilford was carrying- supposedly Dark, though it was painful just to look at their direction. Oliver and Red were carrying the Jims, both in the same limp state as Host was in Green's arms. Both of them were clearly hurt and bloody, just like Host was, probably also having been attached to something. Edward was certain he could spot some metal poking out of them, making him even more worried.

But first, they had to get back home, and to Edward's clinic, and Edward was more than scared that Host was hurt irreversibly, he had been there _so long_.

Once in the clinic, the Googles put Host and the Jims onto beds. Wilford had carried Dark off somewhere else, but Edward trusted him that Wilford knew what he was doing. At least Edward was pretty sure, because he knew Wilford and Dark had a history together.  
Sure, no one knew a whole lot about their past, but still. Edward trusted Wilford to take care of Dark, and if he needed help he'd come here, surely.

Green -being the one Google who helped out in the clinic sometimes- made to help the Jims, as Edward was immediately focused on Host. He definitely needed more fluids, he seemed like he was passed out, and Edward had to find out what was injected into them through the collar as well.  
Blue took that over, thankfully, once he had a sample from Host and the Jims.

Edward made sure to attach all the different machines to observe Host's vitals. He had lost a lot of blood, his pulse weak and heartbeat quick and shallow.  
Once everything was set up, Edward did make sure to check up on the Jims as well. Together with Green, he cleaned the twins up, before he turned his attention back to Host.

He licked his lips, before biting on them. He gathered more things to clean Host up with, as well as fresh bandages. Pulling on gloves, he gently unwrapped the old bandages, and he cringed at how disgusting they were. They hadn't been changed since he left, Edward was certain.  
They stuck to Host's skin, and Edward had to peel them off. He winced slightly at the crust, the fragile skin beneath starting to bleed again when the wounds were pulled open again because of the bandages.

Edward threw the bandages away, before very gently and carefully starting to clean Host's face. Around his eyesockets looked really painful, wounds scratched into the fragile skin. Probably before Host's fingers had been screwed in place..  
Edward was chewing on his lip as he carefully cleaned Host's face, until there was no more blood and no more grime stuck on his face. He looked like he was just sleeping, now, and Edward couldn't help but look sadly at the peaceful face.

Edward gently put some cream to help the healing process, before re-wrapping the bandages. He then focused on Host's arms, seeing how there had been metal bands screwed onto them. Undressing Host wasn't that big of an ordeal, because Host wasn't very heavy, but Edward still felt like he was violating him. Edward was a doctor though, and right now he was _Host's_ doctor, so he undressed his coat and shirt and pants, before going to clean his arms and take care of the countless little holes from screws, and make sure there wasn't anything more inside of him.

Once he was done, he did continue to make sure to look after the Jims as well, surveying the job Green had done. He thanked him lightly, glad for the help.

Collapsing onto a chair, Edward buried his hands in his hair. Host was _hurt_.

_Really_ hurt.

It worried him incredibly, and he hoped that he would wake up again soon. He had no idea what that facility had done with him, or the Jims, or _Dark_. It was terrifying, and he hoped the Googles would find something, would know what it was and what to do against it if it was bad.

-

The Googles found out, that the drug that had been injected into the egos, was a sort of addictive drug that kept them awake and stimulated parts of the brain to make them function still without needing any nutritions and alike. It sounded very _very_ bad, and Edward was hoping to the gods that Host would wake up again.

He wasn't sure if he would, by now.

He's been hooked up to that drug for so _long_. What would happen if he didn't get it anymore? Would his brain still function normally?  
Edward took shaky deep breaths, trying to stay calm. Of course, he was worried for the Jims as well, but they hadn't been there as long as Host. And Host had been awake 24/7, and Edward was certain the Jims hadn't been.

Host had been there _over a year_. Almost _two years_.

Edward was trembling, he realized, tears slowly running down his cheeks.  
He was realizing he may have been too late. They had been too late. He had no clue if Host's brain was pudding by now, if he could survive without the drug or not. He didn't know if Host would ever wake up again from this or not either.

He stayed alone in the clinic, crying to himself, with three- sleeping? Unconscious? Comatose?- egos. Friends. People he cared about and never wanted to see in such a state.  
He may love one of them too, which made it hurt even _more_.

Edward had no clue how long he had been sitting there, until he had stopped crying, and had come to terms with everything. He was a doctor. He was Doctor Edward Iplier. He may not have any cool or amazing powers like other egos, or an interesting history, or anything iconic other than “I'm sorry, you're dying”. But he was a good doctor, and dedicated, and he would make sure he tried everything in his power to help his fellow egos who needed him.

So Edward did everything he could.

He removed every last bit of metal inside of Host and the Jims, made sure there was nothing implanted -he _did_ find some... some _thing_, which he gave to the Googles without caring what exactly it was- and made sure to clean and dress every wound and make sure they were healing nicely.  
All three of them would have scars left of this, and Edward didn't look toward it. But there was nothing he could do to help.

No one had seen anything of Dark either, for the time being.

Wilford kept them updated though, telling them that Dark was also still recovering, and would probably need some time. He may not have been there the longest, but it seemed to have been pretty bad for him anyways.  
Edward trusted Wilford fully to take care of Dark. Just like everyone trusted him to take care of Host and the Jims.

-

It took almost two weeks for the Jims to wake up.

During that time, _nothing_ had happened with Host. His eyes were trickling blood more often than not, but it was barely anything, closer to tears than Edward's ever seen Host's eyes bleed. He cleaned Host's face, and eyes, and bandages pretty much daily, to make sure he was okay.

When the Jims woke up, they were very confused, and seemed to have no recollections of what had happened to them. There were broken pieces of memories, and a _lot_ of pain, and as soon as they were allowed, they were cuddling close to one another and comfort the other.  
Bim and Edgar were the first to look after them, before Wilford also appeared. They _were_ the most often around them.

They did have to stay a few more days in the clinic, so Edward could monitor how they'd react to being off the drugs.

It seemed good. They had trouble sleeping, and they fell asleep at random times, as well as getting hyperactive and restless, but those were symptoms Edward was certain would fade over time. It was like spikes of energy, before they crashed and burnt out and had to rest.  
He kept checking up on them for the first few days after they left the clinic, and made sure they would be careful not to hurt themselves when falling asleep at random times.

According to Wilford, Dark was getting better too. They still hadn't seen him, none of the egos, but if asked, they could hear him talking to Wilford when passing their room. Sometimes it sounded... strange, in a way, but, he was alive and getting better.  
It was all Edward hoped for. That everyone would get better again. He's heard Dark hadn't had one of those drugged collars, which was good, or else Edward had to have Wilford document how it reacted to Dark while the effects wore off over time.

And now only Host was left.

Laying still in bed.

Not moving.

Just breathing.

Never seeming to be awake.

Edward worried terribly about him, and the more days passed, the more concerned he grew, and the more his optimistic hope chipped away.  
He's been gone almost two years. Of course he'd be the one who's been affected the worst out of the three of them. At the very least it had only been the three of them, before they had decided something was wrong.

Edward felt so, _so_, terrible for just having written off Host leaving as _possible_. As _normal_.

And now here they were.

Host in an unknown state. He was breathing, and he was alive, his heart was beating. Edward had to keep him hooked up to IVs, and monitors to keep track of his internal functionings and that he was okay.  
Edward had no idea when, or _if_, Host would wake up. He wasn't moving, he wasn't speaking, all that happened was some trickling of blood from his eyes occasionally. Edward suspected it could be because Host's eyes had been constantly- had- had probably been _constantly bleeding_ while he had been trapped for _two years_. And now couldn't stop.  
Perhaps it was because of the drugs that had worked through Host's body so much, and they were affecting Host's eyes to bleed as side-effect.

Edward couldn't know, not until Host woke up.

After a month had passed, the Jims were back to normal. Dark was seen again as well. Sometimes he still needed times, or days, for himself and just allowed Wilford with him, but as long as he wasn't stressed and calm, he was alright to be around the others. He was seen a lot with his cane now, though, even though Edward suspected that would go again too.

And Host.  
He was still asleep.

Every ego was deeply concerned for him, of course. Everyone came to visit, and sometimes they dragged Edward out of the clinic as well, to get some fresh air, and walk around, try and cheer him up.  
Host was strong. He survived being there for so long, he'd get through this. He would.

He had to.

But there was no way of knowing for certain.

So Edward waited, and hoped.  
The other egos waited, and hoped.

Edward stayed inside the clinic most of the time, always ready to be at Host's side, to spring up and rush to his side, ready to do whatever it took to help Host.  
And it was the middle of the night when a scream ripped through the silence, Edward shooting up from where he had fallen asleep at his desk. Confusion took place, before his brain caught up with what had happened.

A scream.  
Now sobbing.

_Host_.

Edward hurried over to the bed Host was in, finding the ego's upper body writing in bed, twisting and turning, lips moving without a sound leaving him, merely broken by sobs as deep red blood seeped into his bandages.  
The doctor didn't know what to do to help. He wasn't sure if Host was awake or if he was still asleep, if he had a nightmare, a vision, a memory, or something else. He wasn't sure if Host was in pain or not.  
So he just gently hushed Host, making sure he didn't rip anything off of himself per accident, quietly talking to him and hoping to soothe Host, hand running over Host's hair gently. It was greasy and not too pleasant to touch, but he couldn't just go and bathe Host. He made sure to clean him up a little whenever he took care of his injuries -or by now scars- and cleaned his face.

Host's hand had tried to scratch at his bandages, beneath them, but Edward gently took them into his own and squeezed them, holding them and gently hushing Host, murmuring soft reassurances. Until, at least, Host quietened down.  
He did hold tightly onto Edward's hands still, so Edward sat down next to the bed, holding Host's hands. He didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings, or much of anything, but this was the first time in over a month he had heard Host. That Host had moved.

A sign of life, finally.

Edward's worries were eased, a little, by Host moving, making sounds, showing that he was still alive. The doctor had no clue in what state Host was, he had no way to check his brain, but he hoped for the absolute best.  
Because he couldn't imagine Host not being Host. He couldn't imagine Host being any sort of different than he normally was.

What if he lost his powers?

What if he had irreversible brain damage?

What if he wouldn't be the Host anymore?

It were questions Edward had asked himself a lot, and they resurfaced now that Host had moved, that maybe, he would be awake again soon. There was no indicator for how long it would take, but since Host had finally shown even just a little sign of waking, Edward's hope was re-kindled, and he would do everything in his power to make sure, no matter what might be the results, he'd be there for Host. He'd help him and support him, and love him just the same as he did right now.

-

Through the next few days -and most prominently nights- Host semi-woke, often screaming, sometimes unable to breathe, sometimes wildly flailing his arms. It never lasted long, he quietened down quickly once Edward was there, though the grip on Edward's hands stayed always the longest, even when it seemed Host was gone under again.  
After a few days, there were audible, but incomprehensible, mutters whenever Host woke. Edward took to record them, hoping that maybe the Googles could make something out, or perhaps just for Host to listen to again if he remembered any of this.  
Edward doubted he'd remember, but Host had always been sort of all-knowing. He couldn't know if Host would remember, and no one else would know either. They could suspect, and guess, but not know.

It was another night where Host woke up with a sob, and tried to claw at his sockets. Edward was quick to be there, having gotten used to staying up most of the night, and gently take Host's hands away from his face.  
Host's breaths were laboured, and he clung immediately to Edward's hands. His face turned, looking, searching, until it settled somewhat on Edward.  
“E-ed-...”, Host voice was quiet, too soft and weak, so much unlike his normal even and soothing tone.

And yet, Edward heard it anyways.

It was silent inside the clinic besides the two of them, and the rest of the house was either asleep in their bedrooms, or in the soundproof studio. There was nothing but silence, and so Edward heard Host's voice, and he could've cried.

“I'm here.”, he said softly, his own voice quiet, and he sat down next to the bed, holding Host's hands tightly. He spoke. He was aware. At least, he was somewhat aware, enough to speak.  
“Ed-”, Host tried again, but his voice was hoarse, it was raspy and sounded as painful as it probably was, and Edward gently hushed Host.  
“I'm here. You're home. Everything will be okay.”, he murmured softly, gently rubbing his thumbs over Host's hands. It seemed to help Host calm down, settling into the pillows, relaxing.

Host was silent, then, and Edward didn't mind. Host had talked. He had actually talked, addressing him, and reacted to Edward's words. It didn't matter if it didn't last long.

Host would be okay.

-

Through the next few days, Host was usually more calm. He didn't seem to wake as often anymore, though when he did, it were because of pained screams, back arched off the bed and blood cascading down his cheeks. Edward couldn't help him, other than being here. He feared painkillers would stimulate whatever may be left of the drug, or whatever damage the drug had done, and would just make things worse for Host.  
But when Host didn't fall unconscious again immediately afterwards, he seemed a little more aware than before.

He gently held onto Edward's hands, and he faced him when Edward talked, clearly listening to the other. Edward told him about the other egos, and that everyone was concerned, but so happy Host was getting better. He told him that they visited, now and then, during the day.  
It just wasn't the same without the Host around. One of them was missing, and no one could do anything.  
It was similar to when Host had first left -had first _been taken. _Everyone missed him, but no one had been able to do anything against it. Thinking it had been Host's own decision. That Host had wanted to leave here.

But now, now, while everyone was worried for Host, they could come see him. They talked to him, often, when they were here. Even if Host wasn't awake or aware for it, they were just glad to hear from Edward that he was getting better.

Host hadn't spoken again in a while, though, and Edward still worried immensely. Host's wounds had scarred, now gracing his body with more scars than before. Edward had known about most scars Host had had, the ones covering his hands and arms, the few on his torso. But now his arms and fingers were graced with systematic little round scars, his neck had a few around it as well, and they'd never leave. The wounds had taken weeks to heal, and they were still pink-ish as if they were healing, even though they weren't anymore.

It went on for a few weeks like this.

Edward didn't mind too much. He missed Host's voice, his presence in the manor, just like the others did. But he was home, and he was safe, and if he... if he was stuck in a bed for now, that was okay. Host was here, and he'd be okay again some time. Perhaps changed, but still Host.

At one point, late in the night, while Edward was talking to Host again, Host squeezed Edward's hand lightly. The doctor quietened, looking at Host with a slightly tilted head.  
“Host?”, he said softly, gently squeezing both of Host's hands in his own.  
“Edward..”, Host mumbled, shifting his head around slightly.  
“I'm here.”, Edward murmured, looking at the other. He didn't want Host to overexert himself, but- but he was awake, he was _talking_, and he needed Host to stay conscious and aware enough to continue.  
“It hurts..”, Host mumbled. He didn't seem to have enough strength to speak in third person, yet alone narrate. Edward didn't want to think he may not be able to anymore.  
“I'm sorry.”, Edward replied softly. He didn't know how to help Host's pain.

Host gently squeezed Edward's hand, and Edward felt terrible. He wanted to help so badly, but he couldn't. He could just sit here, talk with Host, and... and nothing else.

“Thank you.”, Host murmured, and Edward smiled weakly.  
“Of course. I'd do whatever I can to help you.”, Edward said softly, and a small smile graced Host's lips. Being cared about was nice, something that Host had never truly gotten used to.  
Or perhaps, it just had faded over the two years he's been gone. Being nothing but a drone, a machine, some thing to be used.  
He shifted again then, and Edward noted Host must be tired. He seemed always so tired, and in so much pain whenever he did wake up and could listen to Edward.

So Edward let Host sleep again. He deserved the rest, and perhaps, he'd get better soon now.

-

Host slept quietly for the whole next 24 hours.

Edward stayed in the clinic anyways, staying by Host's side and being there for when he would wake up again. He was so glad it wasn't an “if he woke up”, because Host had been awake often enough now that everyone knew that he wouldn't be gone forever. That, even though he was still stuck in bed, he was alive and could get better again.

It was the middle of the night when Host woke up again. He wasn't screaming, or being loud in any sort of way. But his hand was searching for Edward's, so Edward reached for Host's hand and took it, gently holding it both of his hands.

“Hey.”, Edward said softly, a light smile on his lips. He was glad Host had woken up not screaming in pain.  
“Hi.”, Host said softly, shifting to lay his other hand onto Edward's. It made the doctor smile lightly, and he was glad that Host seemed to be a little better today.  
“How are you?”, Edward asked softly. He worried, of course, but he also needed to know because he was Host's doctor and had to look after his health too. At least until Host could leave the clinic again.  
“In pain.”, Host mumbled. “Host's head hurts.”.  
Edward smiled weakly. He was glad Host was trying to narrate, speaking in third person as he always seemed to do. Host was still Host.  
“I'm sorry I can't help.”, Edward murmured, and Host smiled lightly. It made Edward feel a little better that Host could find a smile in him.  
“Do you remember what happened?”, Edward asked softly then. If Host didn't, Edward wasn't sure if he should tell him about it. It's been two years, and those two years had been filled with pain and drugs.

Host was quiet, thinking, holding onto Edward's hands. “Pain. A lot of pain.”, he mumbled. “Host remembers.... the sound of an electric screwdriver. More pain. The feeling of something getting into his system.”, he murmured, and he was starting to tremble.  
“Hey, hey it's okay. You don't have to continue.”, Edward hushed Host softly, gently squeezing Host's hand. Host took deep and shaky breaths, nodding lightly.  
“Host doesn't remember much else.”, Host murmured, and Edward nodded lightly. He remembered more than the Jims, even though he's been gone for so much longer.

“That's okay. You're safe at home now, and no more pain.”, Edward said softly. Host would be okay now, and once this pain Host currently felt stopped, everything should be alright.  
Host smiled softly and nodded. He certainly hoped so as well. He _was_ at home, and he _was_ in barely any pain anymore. Just his head hurt. It hurt really badly. And his narrations didn't work properly.  
But with time, he'd get better. He strongly believed so.  
“Do you want to rest some more? It's okay do sleep.”, Edward said softly. He wanted Host to be okay, and he seemed really tired still. Host hummed lightly in reply, making himself comfortable in bed again.  
“Host will.”, he murmured, and Edward smiled softly, nodding. He let Host sleep, then, keeping his hands in his own.

-

The next day, Host was awake again in the early noon. Edward was glad Host seemed to be able to wake up better now, though it seemed like the drug not being pumped into him made him much more tired and upping his need of sleep. It wasn't surprising, seeing how the drug had literally kept him awake. The Jims seemed to suffer the same effects, though they had recovered a lot already. They just had to stay away from caffeine and sugar, until they were functioning correctly again -if they ever would.

Edward made Host some soup, to get him used to eating and drinking again slowly. He knew after so long of not eating properly to at all, his stomach wouldn't handle solid foods well. So Edward made some soup, like he had for the Jims as well, and added some rice to make it more filling, but not hard to eat still.  
Armed with soup, he went back to the clinic and to Host's bed, setting the soup down. He helped him sit up, moving the bed up so Host could still lean against it and not exhaust himself.

“How are you today?”, Edward asked softly, slowly feeding Host spoonfuls of soup. He wanted to do some basic tests today, see if Host had any brain damage, and how his powers had taken it all.  
“Host's tired, and in pain, still.”, Host replied softly. He did help hold the bowl on his lap, letting his hands warm up. It was nice, the warmth seeping into his skin.  
“Anything unusual?”, Edward continued, and Host hummed for a moment in thought, before lightly, and slowly, shaking his head. Nothing that he hadn't felt the other times' he's been awake.  
“How are your narrations?”, Edward asked then, making sure not to go too fast with the soup, though Host seemed to take it rather well so far.  
“Host can't... really tell. Bad, he supposes.”, Host murmured. “He cannot See. But he gets little impressions of things. He doesn't think they're gone.”.  
“I'm sure they'll recover, just like you will.”, Edward said with a soft smile. He was optimistic, and he'd try his hardest to help Host out.

Host managed a soft smile in return and nodded. He hoped so as well.

The soup was finished, and Edward made sure to put it away first so that it wouldn't start smelling and the whole clinic would smell like old soup. He hated having old dishes with food leftovers standing around, since they began to smell really fast, and if he wasn't going to eat it, the smell was gross to him. So, the empty bowl was brought back to the kitchen immediately, before he went back to join Host's side.

“Alright. Let's do some basic tests, alright?”, Edward said softly. “You've been under drugs for a long time, and I don't know if it has any lasting effects.”.  
Host nodded lightly, and it looked like he was trying to mouth along narrations. Perhaps it would help him, so Edward didn't comment on it. He knew it was a touchy subject right now.  
“Okay. Can you move all parts of your face? Scrunch up your nose, furrow brows, such things.”, Edward instructed, and Host carefully tried everything out. It looked good, so Edward went on to let Host move his head around, turning and rolling it to test his neck, before his arms came. Edward already knew Host could move them, but he wanted to make sure.  
He gave Host a small weighted ball then, to see how well he could hold things. Host took ahold of it with both hands first, trembling ever so slightly. Upon being told to use just one hand, he dropped the ball. It took a few tries, before he could successfully do so.  
“The Host's fingers hurt to move so much.”, Host said softly, and Edward gently took the ball from Host, laying it down.  
“You'll need to keep exercising them. They must have been rather stiff for a long time, with barely any movements. It should get better in a few days of moving them.”, Edward replied. After years of having his finger's movements controlled, Edward wasn't surprised.

He took some pointy thing then to test Host's nerve receptors on his arms and hands, careful to check everything. Host could still feel pretty well, unless the pressure was too light. Edward suspected it would come with his narrations again though, since it amplified Host's sense of feeling. And he knew it'd be coming, of course.

Next came Host's upper body. Edward helped Host sit up, and he twisted and bent and moved, and Edward checked his feeling again. It seemed pretty standard, so he decided to go on. There were only really the legs left, and feet of course.

“Okay, try moving your legs to sit on the edge of the bed.”, Edward said softly, having stood up, watching Host carefully. Moments passed, and Edward grew confused and slightly worried.  
“Host?”, he asked softly, and Host took a shaky breath.

“The Host can't move his legs.”.

Edward blinked, startled. Host's voice was shaking, and he was clearly trying to hold it together.  
“Try your toes?”, Edward suggested softly, and Host shook his head strongly, trembling, trying to take deep breaths to keep calm.  
“Nothing. The Host can't move his legs.”, he repeated, and Edward gently reached for Host's hands, taking them into his own and squeezing them.  
“It's okay, Host. I'm certain it's only because of muscle loss. It'll take some time, but you will walk again, alright? Trust me, I'm a doctor. I know.”, Edward hushed Host softly, gently squeezing his hands. Host held tightly onto Edward's hands in return, nodding slowly.  
He had been sitting for a long time -he couldn't remember how long- and thus his legs had wasted away. He'd be fine. He just needed to gain his muscle strength back, and then he could walk again. Certainly.  
“Deep breaths, Host. It's okay. This is temporary. We'll get you through this, and I'll be with you.”, Edward murmured, and he helped Host take deep breaths, calming down again slowly.

Host was clearly badly shaken by the discovery.  
He couldn't walk anymore.  
And neither of them knew for how long either.

Host slowly calmed down again, and once he wasn't shaking anymore, and was breathing evenly, Edward slowly let go of Host's hands.  
“We'll test the feeling in your legs, alright? Softly and more harshly, to see if it's just weakened. Okay?”, Edward wanted to make sure Host was ready for it, and could take it. He didn't want to overwhelm him, if he couldn't feel pressure on his legs. As long as he still had feeling, it was a very good sign. Just some muscle atrophy, that could be healed with time. Exercise and a good diet.  
“The Host agrees softly.”, Host said and nodded lightly. He could do this. Everything would be okay, he trusted Edward with that.  
So Edward got the little plastic thing and the little metal pointy thing. He softly told Host before he poked him, first with the plastic thingy, which Host couldn't feel. Using the pointy metal thingy, the light taps Host also didn't notice, but he did when it was harder and actually hurt.  
“See? It'll be okay. Give it some time, and you'll be back up on your feet.”, Edward said and smiled softly. Host managed a small little smile in return and nodded too. He trusted Edward.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want this to be multiple chapters, but it's already so so long  
I don't wanna write too much more for this, so probably just one more chapter


End file.
